“I suppose that is the truth of it,” he replied with a smile. “There aren’t many heiresses frolicking through the Kentish sheep fields.” He closed the space between them until his front was so close to her back that Victoria could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. He stretched up and plucked the book she’d been eyeing from the shelf just out of reach above her head before dangling it before her face. He leaned forward until his cheek was nearly pressed to hers and murmured, “Irreverent minx.” He dropped the book into her hands and stepped away. “We leave in two hours; will you be prepared by then?”
Victoria’s skin rotated through a cycle of heat and chills; she was rendered mute, and all she could do to reply was execute a jerky nod.
She was still trying to compose herself when the butler arrived bearing a sealed letter for her. Handing him her selection of books and requesting that they be added to the luggage that had yet to make its way to Kent, she accepted the letter and was pleased to recognize her brother’s bold handwriting.
She’d previously written to her father and brother advising them of their movement and her hope that she would see them in person again before her father’s return to America. In reply, Luke had reassured her that their father would not leave without saying his goodbyes in person. As it happened, Luke would also be traveling in the vicinity of their rented home on his way to the southern coast for a meeting. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dashed off to her rooms to pen a hasty reply. Knowing her brother, he was deeply entrenched in work and she’d likely not receive a reply by the time they departed for the country—the letter she held in her hands was already in response to a note she’d sent him days earlier. She scrawled a hasty invitation for him to join them at The Cottage, telling herself that Rafe would not mind.
She looked forward to showing Luke how her life had evolved, of proving to him that—despite its bumps—her marriage was working out. She was also excited for him to meet the children. Purposefully omitting their existence from her note, she did not wish for Luke to draw any unfavorable conclusions before meeting them in person and hearing their story from her mouth. She finished her message telling Luke that, though she missed him terribly, she knew business would come before all else with him. If his schedule permitted, she hoped they might at least have a short visit because he was long overdue for a bit of needling from his younger sister.
“It’s as prettyas a painting!” Victoria sighed in pleasure as Rafe helped her down from their coach. Her blue eyes were wide withjoy and wonder as she drank in the sight of their rented country home for the next couple of months.
It had been a long while since Rafe had traveled this far outside of London—not only because he hadn’t had the need to, but also because he hadn’t had the funds to do so. As they’d strayed further from the city, he’d been reminded of how beautiful bucolic scenery might be. The colors were astonishingly vivid, the air was noticeably clearer, and the excited chatter of May and Dominic was as infectious as their heightened spirits when they pressed their faces to the small carriage windows and drank in the passing scenery.
The bulk of their luggage had been sent ahead of them so the house might be prepared for their arrival. Rather than travel with Nan and the other servants, Victoria had suggested keeping the children in their coach for the duration of the journey. This had resulted in two crying tantrums from May, one unfortunate mess from Faith, ceaseless questions and movements from Dominic, and hearing the phrase, “How much longer?” no less than three dozen times.
It had also provided the opportunity for a great deal of laughter, guessing games, riddles, and blissfully silent naps, during which Rafe suspected he’d been caught staring at his wife. When the carriage fell silent, it was difficult not to be drawn to the domesticity of the scene before him, with Victoria cradling Faith in her arms and running her fingers through May’s mop of curls as she slept cushioned by a pile of her teal traveling skirts. As they’d swayed gently with the motion of the carriage, Rafe had been hard pressed to look anywhere but at Victoria. He could have watched her care for and adore the children for hours on end, examining the way the afternoon sunlight cast golden streaks and unexpected flares of red in her ebony hair, the curve of her full lower lip as she smiled down at the sleeping girls.
This strange phenomenon, where he froze and simply stared at her, had happened with increasing frequency. He’d been attracted to women before, drawn to them, entranced with them, but those had been but fleeting moments…waylays in his meandering existence. This felt somehow different. Perhaps because the scenes playing out in his household were so unfamiliar to him. Not only because he was still growing accustomed to having a wife and children, but because of how they all interacted with one another.
While he could still be standoffish and brimming with trouble, even Dominic had warmed to Victoria’s efforts. She never grew weary of his barrage of questions about her sea voyage from America, about what her life was like in her homeland, whether the borders of civilization were really as wild and untamed as the stories said they were. She was always keen to cradle Faith, and he’d found her on several occasions just speaking to the child of stories and anecdotes from her childhood in Boston. With May, she was never too busy to host a pretend dinner party attended by only the most cherished of dolls and toys, or to spend an hour or two practicing drawing with pencils and paint. Rafe was often asked to judge the outcomes of their artistic endeavors, and he hadn’t the heart to tell his wife that she was no more skilled than May.
Never had Rafe been exposed to such quaintness.
In fact, he hadn’t even realized such a thing was possible.
The first time he’d experienced that thought, he’d felt supremely disloyal to Alice. His sister had done the best she could with him, but she’d been a girl who had lost her mother, too, and they’d both lived beneath a man who’d turned frigid with the pain of loss. By the time Rafe had been Dominic’s age, Alice was out in the world experiencing Society and finding her own place. Gradually, warmth had seeped from Rafe’s life,through no malicious fault of Alice. He could hardly fault his sister for seeking out her own joy.
But, in a few short weeks of marriage with Victoria, Rafe had begun to feel his world warm once again. Like the early morning hours in the height of summer, he could sense the potential for heat the likes of which he’d never known.
It made his skin tingle in anticipation.
“I must agree with that assessment. It is pretty,” Rafe replied, continuing to hold onto Victoria’s hand even though she’d successfully descended to the crushed gravel drive. He joined her in gazing up at the impressive façade. The two-story building had been constructed from heavy timbers and bleached plaster, a slate roof in excellent repair shone silver in the sunlight. The leaded windows consisted of an artful arrangement of dozens of smaller diamond-shaped panes, lending an air of charm and whimsy to the architecture. Hundreds of years prior, skilled hands had built this home to last, and it was a sight to behold. Manicured gardens flanked the courtyard and sides of the house, so rich and full of blooms that Rafe could smell roses mixed with other unidentifiable, heady floral scents drifting on the breeze. In the distance, rolling green hills flowed like the undulating waves off the coast.
Nan had immediately swept the bouncing children away to stretch their legs, have something to eat, and then explore. Forgotten in the wake of their excitement, Rafe and Victoria were left alone in the drive while the last of their belongings were unloaded and carried inside.
Rafe heaved a sigh of relief. “It is a relief to have some peace after that journey,” he said. “Now I know why people usually send their children in another carriage.”
Victoria swatted gently at his chest with the back of her hand. “Do not be such a grouch,” she chastised him lightly.
He caught her hand before she could pull it back. Even through their gloves, his skin tingled from the contact, the sensation of having her delicate fingers in his. He couldn’t resist raising her hand, inhaling her scent, and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He savored the widening of her eyes and the barely perceptible catch in her breathing. He liked knowing she wasn’t as impervious to him as she pretended.
“Shall we explore the grounds? Become acquainted with our home for the time being?”
Victoria only nodded mutely and he escorted her up the pair of steps and into the house. Was it his imagination, or was there a hint of color cresting her cheeks? The corner of his mouth lifted in a self-satisfied smile, but he had to quell his drifting thoughts lest he become too excited by the prospect of tasting the lower lip she was busy nibbling.
After handing off their hats and gloves to the waiting butler who had come with the house as part of its permanent staff, Rafe and Victoria began to wander the home. A close dining room with dark paneling offered a long table with carved wooden chairs. Twelve could be comfortably seated there for a dinner party, though they had no immediate plans to entertain.
The parlor was cozy, and the tall, narrow windows offered views of the distant verdant fields. The kitchens were situated in the back of the house in a stone building nestled against the same lush vegetable and herb gardens that had likely been supplying the residents with sustenance since the home had been built.
There was no dedicated nursery, but the second floor of the home had ample bedchambers to accommodate Rafe, Victoria, the children, and their caretakers. Nan had already settled them into the room on the far eastern corner. Not as big as the lord’s chamber, it was still well-sized for a home of that age. Dominic and May would share the oversized bed, and Nan would occupya cot that had been brought in, and Faith would sleep in the bassinet they’d toted from London.
Finally, Rafe and Victoria made their way toward the Western side of The Cottage and the rooms which had been prepared for their own use. Rafe watched as his wife wandered the room containing her belongings. The bedframe was surprisingly large for the narrowness of the mattress; the entire thing was dwarfed by the thick curtains draping from the ceiling to hang around it. A trio of small windows admitted warm late afternoon light, making the polished wood paneling glimmer with golden light.
“Is everything to your satisfaction?” Rafe asked, but the question was more a way to distract himself from admiring the trimness of her figure and her graceful movements, the way her fingertips stroked the fabric of the coverlet as if to test its texture.
“It will do quite nicely,” she replied with a genuine smile.
He wanted her to invite him to stay with her.
